Memories
by kabukimono
Summary: Memories are a painful thing. And yet one early morning in Luxendarc, they provide some much needed comfort. "I would like to hear some stories." Agnes asks of the childhood Ringabel barely remembers. MAJOR SPOILERS FOR CHAPTER 5 AND BEYOND. Gore and violence in the first chapter. (Previously named Stories)


**SPOILERS FOR CHAPTER 5 AND BEYOND**

Warning for slight gore and violence.

This is an on-going work.

* * *

The Dark Knight, Alternis Dim. Dispatched by the Grand Marshal of the Duchy of Eternia as the final act of resistance against the Vestal of Wind and her treacherous, ignorant actions.

He had intended to confront the Vestal and her companions on the bridge, but it is empty. A chill runs up his spine; the air is too still. Something is dreadfully wrong. His body moving of its own accord across the worn deck that belong to Grandship, Alternis runs instead to the deck, praying. Hearing screams, the sounds of slaughter, of blood and body parts splashing across the wood, his blood turns to ice.

He skids down the last of the steps to face the carnage just as the Vestal of Wind meets her end. Though the woman had been his enemy, he could never have wished that death on anyone, and the sight of her body hitting the deck makes his stomach turn and bile rise in the back of his throat.

The helmet is ripped off, his half mask pushed down as he gets sick entirely the moment he sees his beloved angel, lying broken and twisted on the blood spattered wood. Dead. No, no,_ no_. This is a dream, he tells himself, he is dreaming. Dreaming and he will wake up any moment.

But he doesn't wake as he falls to his knees, coughing up the last of the bile. He doesn't wake as tears blur his vision when he crawls to Edea's side, ignoring when he slides in the blood that could have belonged to any of the three. He doesn't wake when he picks up her body in his arms, noting how light and limp she is. Lifeless. He doesn't wake when his throat is ripped apart by the bestial scream; all it does is make that accursed monster laugh.

His sobs reduce to whimpers as the monster gloats; it's all he can do to try and breathe around the pain in his chest that is his heart and his mind breaking. It's over; he thinks. My life is all but over, but I'm not dying yet. I'm not waking. His tears do little to wash the blood from Edea's face.

His body moves as though not his own. Shakily writing a last message - a warning - in his journal, he tucks it into his armor and regretfully puts Edea's body down. One last look at her face, peaceful as though she may just be sleeping, and he presses a tender kiss to her bloodied forehead.

Perhaps Alternis cannot kill this monster, but he will see it bleed before he dies.

The number** 5** burns in his vision as the fairy vanishes and -

Ringabel finally wakes with a scream. He finds himself tangled in a pile of blankets and panics, squirming and bucking, nearly kicking the frantic teenager trying to calm him before he finally extracts himself and shoves the blankets away as though they were on fire.

He no longer knows where he is; who he is, and the concerned faces crowded around his bed are foreign and frightening. Like a wounded animal, he backs away and cowers on the furthest corner of the bed, covering his face as he cries. The memories are overwhelming as they return.

It takes some time to fully wake from the nightmare, and as he slowly comes back into his own skin, he becomes aware that he's bleeding, his nails digging deep into the skin of his face. The pain anchors him, gives him something to think of beyond the painful flashes of memory behind his eyes. It's difficult to imagine anything beyond the end of his world.

And then there is warmth around him, in the form of Edea Lee's arms. He would recognize her anywhere.

His throat dry and sore from crying and whimpering while he'd slept, Ringabel says nothing but soaks in that warmth. As he calms, he notes that Tiz and even Agnès join Edea on his bed, forming a barrier around him from the night air.

"Forgive me," he finally chokes out, his tears freely rolling down his face, smearing across Edea's bare shoulders. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." His nails dig into her skin as he clutches her for support.

"Shh," Edea's not well versed in being comforting, but Ringabel is like a child right now. A broken, terrified child. Her fingers run through his hair, tuck his face against her neck so he can breathe in her very much living scent. His screams from the room he shared with Tiz had woken her while she'd slept, and there was nothing so terrifying as watching him live through his own private hell, helpless to do anything.

They've coaxed Ringabel far enough from the wall that Tiz can slide behind him now, and though Ringabel is still taller and larger than the other boy, Tiz is used to holding crying people in his lap. They fit well enough in his arms, the three of his companions, and Agnès tucks herself helpfully against Ringabel's side, allowing him to clutch her close as well. His breathing calms.

The cryst-fairy's light flickers on the far side of the room before disappearing completely.

Slowly, painfully slowly, Ringabel's sobs evens out and he finally begins to calm down. His world had ended, died a painful death long ago on the deck of Grandship, but he had not been so lucky to end with it. Instead, his life had continued on into the arms of these people, curled around him in the dead of night. However hesitantly they had first accepted him into their group, he was now one of them, and they would protect him as fiercely as he would any of them. They were as good as family.

Ringabel sighs and nuzzles Edea's throat, pulls away so that he can kiss the top of the Vestal's tousled head, then leans back to knock his head gently against Tiz's.

"Thank you." He says, embarrassed by the latest episode. "I am fine, now. You can let go."

They do, reluctantly. Tiz slides off instead to sit at the edge of the bed, reaching for Agnès' hand beside him, and Edea settles herself against Ringabel's side. It reminds him of when a tiny child, fresh from the slums of Florem, had cried himself to sleep in his foster sister's bed during an Eterian thunderstorm, her smaller frame protectively draped around him. He mentally thanks her.

The others say nothing when he leans tiredly against her, takes her hand in his, and intertwines their fingers. She squeezes gently.

"That dream again?" Tiz finally asks, no stranger to dreams of dying faces, knowing that he should have died with them. Wishing that he had. Of all of their companions, he alone knows of the hell that Alternis had faced, and even then... the details had been spared.

"... Yes." Ringabel admits.

"You worried us," Edea's voice is quiet next to his ear. "You just… started crying."

"Forgive me," he repeats, ashamed of himself. "I did not mean to disturb you."

Edea's elbow hits his rib - more gently than usual - but it is Agnès who speaks, her voice soft in the darkness. "There is nothing to forgive." He is not the only one to cry at night, after all. They have all been there. This is just a little different.

Ringabel has always had difficulty sleeping through the night, though because they split the rooms between the sexes, it is usually something kept closely guarded between Tiz and himself. After all, the other boy experiences just as many night terrors. But Ringabel's memories have fueled his subconscious, and the hatred he feels for himself at night makes itself known as his mind tortures itself over and over. His waking reactions have grown more violent in response. It's embarrassing.

He sighs, stretching against Edea, nudging Tiz's thigh with his bare feet. The idea of sleep makes him feel sick, his stomach churns at the very thought. "All the same. I disrupted your rest. You ladies deserve your beauty sleep, after all. And Tiz as well, I suppose." He offers a weak smile that falls somewhat flat.

"Oh, thanks." Tiz remarks dryly, and that makes Ringabel's smile somewhat more sincere, stronger.

And yet none of them make any motion to move.

"I'm not sleeping after that," Edea finally breaks the silence, and there's a haunted tone to her voice. She would never be able to go back to sleep after hearing those broken screams, then rushing into the room next door only to see Ringabel thrashing in his sleep while Tiz hovered nearby, horrified. He'd sounded like he was being _killed_ - and perhaps in his dreams, he was. It was not something so easily forgotten.

"I don't…" Agnès trails off, uncertain. "I would rather stay with you." The 'you' she means is not clarified.

"I don't think I could go back to bed, either." Tiz offers. "Dawn's only a couple of hours away. Why don't we just stay up? Get ready for the day. Maybe… it'll help make us tired for tonight."

Ringabel privately doubts that he'll be tired enough to sleep through the night without disturbance ever again. Especially if he were expected to wake the next morning.

"Then it's settled!" Edea wiggles a little from behind Ringabel's larger form, getting comfortable. Her arms wrap around him easily, and he is left feeling like that lost, lonely child again. Edea has always protected him as well as she could.

There isn't enough room on the bed for Agnès and Tiz to join them, but instead Tiz tucks Agnès into his own bed and grabs one of the large armchairs in the corner, dragging it over.

For a few moments there is silence as the four of them settle down, making themselves comfortable with blankets and pillows.

"You know," Edea says, and her arms squeeze gently around Ringabel's middle. "When Alternis first came to Eternia, he was such a crybaby."

"He was not." Ringabel protests, speaking of his past self as if he were a different person. He is, really. Alternis, Ringabel. Two different men. One dead, the other alive, just barely.

"Well, maybe you didn't think so! But he always moped around. Wouldn't say a word! Was always so… grim. Quiet. It drove me crazy."

"Well, _excuse me_. Not everyone can be a chatterbox like you, Edea."

Agnès giggles from the other bed. "What was she like as a child?"

"Exuberant," Ringabel says before Edea can cut in. "Energetic. Boisterous. Much like she is now, except much cuter and only a little smaller. A little." Edea's squeeze is harsher now, but he swallows the noise stubbornly.

"I would like to hear some stories," Agnès says shyly.

"Oh, I don't think-"

"Absolutely, my dear Vestal. We have a few hours to spare. I think sharing some stories is an excellent idea." Ringabel finds himself grinning, though the expression feels forced. And though he knows that this is not the Edea he grew up with, and the reminder hurts, hurts so badly that his eyes burn and his chest aches, it is an Edea he has spent the past few months with. It… wouldn't hurt to compare their memories, would it? To help fill in the gaps with his own, still so shattered. And… he would like to know more about his newfound family. "But in return," he continues. "Why don't you and Tiz share some as well?"

There's a small pause.

"I guess so." Tiz offers. "Life in Norende was pretty boring, not as exciting as yours, I'm sure. But if you really want to know…"

"Please." Ringabel says fervently. Anything. Anything to spend the few hours before daylight. Anything to know his companions better. Agnès nods her agreement in the dim light.

"Alright, alright." Edea says, catching the meaning behind his words. He thinks her cheek rests gently against the top of his head briefly. "I guess I'll go first." She volunteers, and Ringabel knows he should probably brace himself for something that might just ruin his reputation.


End file.
